


Killing The Cat

by GamerStories (breakbeatTF)



Series: Caleb [11]
Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon (Main Video Game Series), Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, Transformation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-01
Updated: 2015-06-01
Packaged: 2021-03-02 16:55:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,131
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24330166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/breakbeatTF/pseuds/GamerStories
Summary: Arceus TF oneshot.
Series: Caleb [11]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1755706





	Killing The Cat

**Author's Note:**

  * For [BurstCoffee](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=BurstCoffee).



" _-Reports of a recent gang now forming in-_ "  
  
" _-A new gang, going by the name of Stealth, have been growing rapidly in terms of members-_ "  
  
" _-Many have been brutally murdered after this new organization named Stealth-_ "  
  
" _-Police are still trying to find the intentions of and for this new gang. If you see or know anyone that is a member, please report them immediately._"  
  
\-------------------  
  
I twist the car-key, subsequently turning off my car. I open the door, and exit the vehicle, gaping at the enormous building that lay in front of me. It used to be a place of high maintenance. _Used_ to.  
  
Now, it's just another fort among the downtown. I smirk, knowing that this new organization won't be lasting for long.  
  
\-------------------  
  
I peek over the railing. And there he is, yet another watchman, oblivious as ever. I reach for my back pocket, pulling out a tranquilizer. I close my left eye, stop breathing, focus, aim, and- thar she goes. Peeking glances to my left, right, and center, I make my way over to the unconscious body. Drawing close enough, I snatch his arm, dragging him around back behind the stack of bricks, for which reasons they _were_ stacked I will never know. Nobody would look there at least. Now, onto the next one.   
  
He enters the room quite quickly, possibly on patrol. A small, black Ruger LCR is in his hand, I can see, clear as day. He advances. I spin back around, only now behind the brick stack. I hear his footsteps. They come closer, and closer, and closer...I retreat from the shadows, needle in my hand. He notices. The gun is aimed.   
  
He was too late. The dart had already been stabbed into his flesh. Blinking, he then falls to the ground, thus removing the needle from his fleshy grip. After hauling that paralyzed body, I continue onward.  
  
\-------------------  
  
Steady aim: Check. On target: Check. Loaded: Check. I breathe, slowly, quietly. I put pressure on my fingers, and apply force to the trigger. Soon, the guard goes down, sleepin' like a little baby. I breathe a sigh of relief, ' _Right. That should have been the last one._ ' Now, onto the target...  
  
I near towards the door the guard was overseeing. A sharp intake of air is taken into my mouth, as I decide on what should be done. I clench onto my forearm, letting a fragment of my body soon dissolve into a pile of goo. Flattening out said goop, I stick the jelly into the keyhole, reforming to fit. Soon, the door "clicks." I rest my hand on the door handle, before slowly turning it. Pulling out the fake key I made, I put back the goo, letting it seep back onto my human-form skin. Hey, a man's gotta do what a man's gotta do. I slowly pull out my tranquilizer, ready to fire at a moment's notice. I close my eyes, take a deep breath, and slam open the door.  
  
The man of the hour inside, let's say, was surprised to see me. Once I was spotted, he frantically dove underneath his desk. I aim my gun straight for where I predict he will pop his head next. I hear the all-too-familiar clicks of a reloading pistol, (yes, there _were_ a couple of too many gunfights due to my failure of remaining covert,) and I dive backward for the wall behind the doorway. I hear the gun being fired, along with the sounds of a bullet flying straight past my head. I peek out of cover, gun in hand, firing away my dart. He ducks. Dammit. He peeks over the desk. He fires another bullet. I protect my head once again by hiding against the wall. I exhale, before making a brave decision and twirling around out of cover, and firing.  
  
The next bullet from the gun is launched and heading straight towards me. Thankfully, my plan worked. I was able to dodge said bullet, and, with the element of awe and surprise still on my side, I pressed against the trigger. He lumps back into his chair, defeated. I almost gagged at first sight: seeing an empty needle stuck right into a forehead is not a pleasant sight, though it _is_ a lot less worse than observing a bullet to the same forehead. I wiped the invisible sweat off my face, muttering, "Took a bit longer than I wanted it to but I still got the job don-"  
  
"BOSS!"  
  
I freeze.  
  
"BOSS, I found some-" The voice suddenly stops. I swivel my head around.  
  
There he stands. At 5'6" he's a bit short, but it does make sense when you look at his face. Donning a rather pointy chin like myself, hazel eyes, glossed black hair, and glasses resting on top of his head, he rather does emit a more cautious feel. To match his hair, he has on a black buttoned-on suit and blackened boots. His jeans were equally as odd, sporting a shade of block as well; yup this definitely was a man of the darks, which contrasts well with his slightly-tanned skin, I must admit. Anyways-  
  
He steps back and gasps in response. I gaze down, seeing his feet readying for take-off. Reaching for another dart slowly, I draw my hand near, not too fast to scare him. Sullenly yet sudden, I lash out the gun, now loaded. When the realization struck him, he took off, frightened like a little hamster. The chase has begun.   
  
\-------------------  
  
' _Wrong way._ '   
  
Escaping the sights of the midnight flock of people was not easy, but thankfully my job was eased by my victim's own stupidity. He blindly ran into an alleyway. I guess he thought he could hide from me. I sprinted into the alleyway, following his footsteps. He boundlessly climbs and leaps over the chain-link fence. As I struggle to get up, I notice him running away, getting farther and farther away from my reach.   
  
I pull out my tranq, still struggling to stay on the fence, before directing attention to my arm and sight. I undeviatingly aim the gun, line up the sights, and fire. The dart spirals out of the gun, soaring through the sky like a majestic eagle. And, like a majestic eagle, it catches its prey by stabbing it directly. He falls down to the ground.   
  
Bounding off the fence, I reflected off the ground, running straight for the body. I pick him up by the heel, dragging the unconscious body and lifting the pricked needle from his legs. Once he's out of sight, I take a second to breathe. Where would I place him? What about if he dies? What about... _him?_ I stared at his face. His innocent, belittled-  
  
...face...   
  
"That's it!" I mutter, walking away from him.  
  
\--------------------  
  
"Ugh, what happened..." he begins.   
  
"Mmph!" I hear. I turn around to see him, the boss, struggling to bound himself free from the grasps of a tied rope and duct tape. I deliberately shush him, then spin back around to view my prey from the rooftop.   
  
Looking back at him, I see he has successfully gotten up. He appears dazed, and very weary. Perhaps he thinks I'm still after him. What he doesn't notice, however, is a small, almost cylindrical-like object. He unknowing steps on it, before it wobbles and causes him to tumble to the ground. After his head is lifted, however, he does get the memo: specifically, the memo I left.  
  
"What is this?" he questions, picking up the strange and new-found object. It looks like a lavender ocarina, but with a red tip. Looks like he should have been more careful for something else.  
  
Little did he know that his hand had started to change. His fingers started to become whiter and closed on their own. "H-hey, what's going on?!" he shouts as his skin fuses together his fingers with his palms, turning them to hooves as gold spikes up from the hooves, giving off a "high heels" approach. His forearms stay intact, with the only thing changing is it getting whiter. But the same can't be said for anything above that. His elbows jut outward as lumps form on his arm.  
  
His legs follow suit, with his shoes violently ripping open and splitting apart due to the tin sheet of gold poking out, and his feet elongating. He begins to wobble, before defeatedly turning to the ground for support on his hind legs. His heels spike outwards, as the white begins to overtake the feet. His thighs widen out and triangles form on his legs, tearing away at his pants. The last straw for the jeans was the tail. A long lizard-like tail starts growing out, with white shade on the top, and a dark grey underneath.  
  
His waist and chest burst outwards well, inflating at a rather alarming pace, crackling apart his shirt buttons. A hump resides down the middle of his new horse-like body. A grey padding forms underneath his new body. His neck stretches up as the padding continues up the new, before ending briefly along with his neck's length. Triangles spike out from his skin as the pearl white radiates onto his skin while some of the white seeps over his new padding, giving the end a spiky appearance.   
  
His ears relocated themselves automatically to the top of the sides of his head as they flatten out, becoming nothing more than just horns. I highly doubt he can go deaf, though. A mask appears on his face as the new flesh covers both his old skin and the model of the helmet, becoming a permanent ski mask without its lenses. However, his face doesn't turn white. Strips of grey bound across each other, as his blushes on his cheeks go from faded red ovals to opaque green circles, and his eyes point while his pupils turn a slight red. Gold embeds itself with his new flesh, becoming a tiny line against his pale color. The last change to his physical head occurs as another tail sprouts from the back of his skull, while the last grey padding is added underneath the new skin being formed.  
  
After the head is finished, his hump in the middle of his new body suddenly grows four very long spikes, each growing in an intermediate direction. Two of the four spikes form a curve, slowing connecting with each other. The other side does the same, while the circle on his body grows four extra lumps connecting with his body. Four emeralds grow in each of the main spikes connecting the two circles. Lastly, a high-pitched frequency wave blows throughout the air, causing us including the victim to shut our ears and eyes closed in response. As I peek back down, I find the Pokemon shaking his head, and appearing surprised. Smiling, I knew my plan had worked by then.  
  
I hop down the window sills, soon reaching the ground level. "Greetings, Arceus," I address, bowing.  
  
The Arceus nods his head. "Thank you. Though, I do not exactly approve of your methods, I'm sure of this --who did this body belong to before?-- ah yes, Max character was wanting this?" Arceus inquired, raising one of his eyebrows suspiciously.  
  
Bowing again, I answered, "Yes sir. Now, I've already had a fiasco where I gave power to-"  
  
"Yes, yes, I already know about the Lugia," he said, waving his hoof up and down.  
  
"....Oh, right," I say, breaking the silence. I place my hand of the window sill and start climbing up the building. Sighing, the Arceus flies up gracefully through the air, hooks his leg around me in the process, and lands on the roof. The target seems to be freaking out ten-fold by now. Rolling his eyes, Arceus spirals his hoof through the air before touching him on the head. The boss closes his eyes and lays his head sideways, asleep.  
  
"I trust that since I've already knocked him out and made him forget about this whole incident, that you can deliver him over to the police anomalously?"  
  
Shaking my head, I jokingly respond, "Of course, sir. That's what I'm known for, right?"  
  
Arceus gazes downward and shakes his head, sighing. "Well, if you'll excuse, I have a dimension that needs attending. I have the right to assume you'll keep this world in good hands?" Arceus asks, walking away.  
  
"Yes sir," I say.  
  
"Good." He continues walking, before transporting away.   
  
\----------------------  
  
" _The leader of the new dominant- well, at least at the time- organization, Stealth, has been reported to be tied up near a police station with no recollections of how he got there. Police are trying to find the vigilante to hopefully bring his intentions to the police force and his actions to the actual force of the police-_ "

**Author's Note:**

> Once again done in Caleb's perspective, I was trying to go for a more stealthy, Watch_Dogs approach to Caleb. Found out, it's real heard to do a good stealth scene. lol  
> And it also looks like Caleb's tacklin' the big dogs now! Both in terms of victims and TFs!  
> ~GamerStories


End file.
